The Mandarin's Fan
and down till nearly twelve. He was with me shortly after eleven, so he
could not have killed the woman."
Hwei pointed a long finger at the young man. "I saw Major Tidman
speaking to a boatman on the beach--the boat came from the Stormy
Petrel--"
"Your boat," said Burgh quickly.
"No. The boat of Tung-yu. It was my day, but Tung-yu hoped to get the
fan after twelve at night and then would have had the right to take it
away in the boat. Major Tidman killed Miss Wharf and gave the knowledge
of his crime to Tung-yu. He would not part with the fan till the money
was paid. Tung-yu went away in the boat so that the police might not get
him. He was wise," added Hwei with a queer smile, "as he is accused of
the murder."
"Which you committed."
"No I did not. Had I found Miss Wharf outside I should have killed her.
It was my hour, but she escaped me."
"Then you were in Marport on that night?" asked Rupert.
Hwei nodded. "Not at the hotel. Tung-yu went to the ball, and was to
bring Miss Wharf out down the steps, so that I could kill her. I came to
the steps about twelve, and while waiting on the beach I saw you sir,
talking to the Major. But Tung-yu betrayed me." Hwei's face looked
fiercer then ever. "He did not bring her to me in my hour, and so
betrayed the trust of the god Kwang-ho. He wanted her to live, so that
he might buy the fan next day."
"But so long as he got the fan--"
Hwei flung out a long arm. "No," said he austerely, "if Tung-yu gets the
fan it goes with its secret into the hands of Mandarin Hop Sing, who is
the enemy of my master."
"And who is your master?" asked Clarence.
"Lo-Keong. Listen." Hwei took a seat and talked, with his one eye on the
visitors. "The fan is my master's, and holds a secret which means much
to him. It was lost. We invoked the god Kwang-ho. By the mouth of his
priest the gods said that two men should search for it. I was to search
for Lo-Keong, and Tung-yu for Hop Sing the enemy of my master. Hop
Sing's emmissary was to buy the fan at a large price, I was to kill the
person who held it. Thus, said the god, justice would be done. The
person who held the fan would be rewarded for virtue or slain for evil.
One day is mine and the next day is Tung-yu's. At the ball I had my
hour, and had I found Miss Wharf I would have slain her for the fan. But
Tung-yu betrayed me, as he wished to buy the fan next day. But the god
Kwang-ho interfered, and the woman who held the fan wrongfully met with
her doom. Great is the justice of the god Kwang-ho," and he bowed again
to the ugly image which was half veiled by the curling smoke.
Rupert stared at the man who talked such good English, yet who used it,
to utter such extraordinary things. He was not acquainted with the
Chinese character, and could not understand the affair. But on
reflection he concluded that the alternate killing and rewarding was
adopted as giving a chance of treating the person who secured the fan in
the way he or she deserved. "I see what you mean," said he, "if the
person got the fan wrongfully, it would come into your possession in
your way, if rightfully, it would go to Tung-yu, therefore the holder of
the fan would be rewarded according to his or her deeds."
Hwei bowed. "Great is the wisdom of the god Kwang-ho," said he.
"Then I guess you're wrong and the god also," said Clarence, "old Miss
Wharf got the fan squarely enough from me."
"She had it wrongfully," said Hwei obstinately "else she would not have
been slain."
"Who slew her?" asked Rupert seeing the uselessness of argument.
"Major Tidman."
"No. I tell you he was on the beach. Tung-yu killed her."
Hwei shook his head, "Tung-yu dare not," said he, "the god would slay
him if he disobeyed."
"The god didn't slay him when he played low down on you in keeping Miss
Wharf back from your knife," said Clarence.
"Tung-yu has done penance. He has made amends. He wrote to Major Tidman
telling him to come here on my night, so that he might meet with his
doom."
"But he hasn't come."
"He is afraid."
"No," said Rupert decisively, "the Major has not the fan. Who has, I
know no more than I do who killed Miss Wharf."
Hwei wavered, and his keen face grew troubled. The persistence of Rupert
was having its effect. "Are you sure?"
"Quite sure," said Ainsleigh promptly.
"Will you swear this before the god Kwang-ho."
"Certainly--but remember I am a Christian."
Hwei went to the shrine and brought forth a joss stick. "The god
Kwang-ho is all powerful," said he solemnly, "if you lie, he will not
spare you. Burn this joss before him and swear."
"No," said Rupert drawing back. "I am a Christian."
Hwei's eye flashed with fury. "You are lying," said he, "you will never
leave this place alive."
"Oh I guess so," said Clarence easily, "neither I nor Ainsleigh has the
fan, and you can't kill either of us unless the god grows angry. You've
got to climb down before him."
"That is true," said Hwei dropping the joss-stick, and sat in his chair
with a puzzled face. He then pointed to the clock, the long hand of
which was drawing to twelve. "When that strikes, my hour is over," he
said, "but I may kill you before then."
"You've got ten minutes to do it in," said Burgh cheerfully, "and
Ainsleigh and I intend to fight for it. You'll be hanged too."
"No," said Hwei. "I'll be on my way to China with the fan. I have a boat
waiting near, to take me to a special steamer. I intended to kill Major
Tidman, take the fan and go. Then all the police in the country would
not have caught me."
"And your nice little plan has been defeated by the Major not coming
up," said Rupert calmly, "just as well he didn't. And I have not got the
fan."
"Who has--who has," said Hwei biting his nails, and evidently quite at a
loss. "I made sure--" he looked at Clarence.
"Oh it wasn't me," said that gentleman promptly, "but I may know who
killed the old woman and has the fan."
Hwei flung himself forward. "Tell--tell--tell," he grasped, and he laid
his long fingers on Burgh's throat. The young man threw him over with a
great effort and slipped back to the wall, where he stood beside Rupert.
The two had out their revolvers. "You wait," said Clarence in a
breathless voice, for the struggle though brief had been violent, "tell
me the secret of the fan, and I'll give you the name of the person who
has it."
"What," cried Hwei furiously, "betray my master, you foreign devil. I
will kill you first."
"You've just got five minutes to do it in," cried Burgh jeeringly.
The Chinaman put his fingers to his lips and blew a shrill whistle. In a
moment the room was filled with Chinamen, chattering and screaming like
so many infuriated parrots. Hwei threw himself on the young men.
"Die--Die--" he said thickly.
"Fire--fire," cried Clarence, kicking Hwei back.
For the next few minutes Rupert had no very clear idea of what was
happening. He fired into the mass of Chinamen pushing forward, and heard
a cry as a man dropped. The others fell over him, and in the struggle
upset the shrine. The ugly joss rolled on to the floor and caught fire.
There were shrill screams from the Chinese, who began to jab with their
knives. Clarence was rolling on the floor in close grips with Hwei, and
the draperies of the joss flared away in a brilliant manner. It seemed
as though the two rash men would be either burnt or stabbed, and the end
was coming rapidly.
All at once the silvery chime of the clock sounded and then came the
rapid striking of the hour. The door opened and the boy in red appeared.
He said something in a screaming voice, and then, almost as by magic,
the room emptied. The rolling mass of Chinamen had extinguished the
flaming joss, and Hwei, suddenly disengaging himself from the buccaneer,
darted through the door. The boy followed with the rest of the
assailants, and when Rupert and Burgh got their breath they found
themselves facing the still smoking joss, with Tung-yu blandly smiling
at them.
"Ho," said Clarence rising and shaking himself. "I guess the row's over.
Hurt Ainsleigh?"
"Got a flesh wound," said Rupert, winding his handkerchief round his
left arm, "and you?"
"I'm as right as a pie. So here's Tung-yu. Your hour I guess."
The Chinaman bowed, and picking up the god restored him to his shrine,
which was considerably damaged. "It is lucky the red boy cried that
Hwei's hour was over," he said coolly, "or you would both have been
killed."
"You wouldn't have got the fan though," said Rupert throwing himself
down on his seat, "but you don't intend to kill us I suppose."
"No. The god Kwang-ho is merciful now. I make you rich."
"Humph," said Burgh crossly, "I wish I had that fan with me."
"You have, or Mr. Ainsleigh here, has it," said Tung-yu, "I will give
you five thousand for the fan."
"I haven't got it."
"Think--ten thousand."
"Great Scot!" cried Clarence avariciously, "wish I could trade."
"Fifteen thousand," said Tung-yu his eyes glittering, "come gentlemen
it's better to be rich than dead. For the next twenty-four hours I can
give you money. Then comes Hwei's hour and he will kill you."
"Not much," said Burgh, "I'm going to cut."
"You shall be kept here, till you give up the fan."
Rupert shrugged his shoulders. "You won't believe," he said, "why not
search us. Then you can see we have not the fan. Do you believe that
Major Tidman has it?"
"Yes. He gave it to you. He killed--"
"He did not. Can you swear that he did?"
"No. But I thought--"
"Oh shucks," said Clarence shoving himself forward, "see here Mr.
Tung-yu. I'm sick of this business. We haven't got that durned fan. But
I can tell you who has."
"Tell then and I give you a thousand pounds."
"Not good enough," said Burgh coolly, "see here, you let us go free and
tell us the fan's secret, and I'll tell you."
"Yes, and get the fan, and learn the secret," cried Tung-yu excited,
"but you cannot make use of the secret."
"Don't want to. And as to the fan, you can get it from the person I tell
you of. Then you can fork out fifteen thousand."
The Chinaman deliberated. "We have been wrong about Major Tidman, I
think," said he politely. "It seems someone else has it. I suppose----"
"I didn't kill the old girl myself if that's what you mean."
"Quite so," said Tung-yu, after another pause. "Well, as you can't make
any use of the secret I'll tell you of it. Then you can go free, after
you have told me who killed Miss Wharf."
"Right oh," said Clarence, and Rupert listened breathlessly.
"The fan," said Tung-yu, "is jade on one side, and enamel on the other.
The enamelled side is painted with a picture invisibly. To bring out the
picture, this fan has to be waved in certain smoke--"
"What sort of smoke?"
"I won't tell you that," said Tung-yu politely, "I have told enough."
"Well, then," said Rupert, "when the picture is visible what happens?"
"It will show a hiding place which contains certain things we want to
get, in order to ruin Lo-Keong with the Empress."
"Oh, I see, a plan of a secret hiding-place."
"Now you know," said Tung-yu to Clarence, "tell me----"
"Not till I know of the smoke."
"I refuse. But I give you fifteen thousand to get that fan. One thousand
now if you tell me who killed the woman and who has it."
"Good," said Clarence, "I'll trade. Dr. Forge strangled Miss Wharf."
"Ah," said Tung-yu leaping up, "he has the fan. Thanks Kwang-ho," and he
bowed to the half-destroyed image.
CHAPTER XVII
A DISAPPEARANCE
When Rupert returned to Marport next day, Burgh accompanied him. The
young squire of Royabay wished to give information to the police
regarding the guilt of Forge. But Clarence persuaded him against doing
so. "You'll only get me into a row," said he, in his candid way. "You
see I told a lie."